


The Prophecy of Four Brothers

by Direwolf88



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batdad, Brotherly Love, Family Feels, Gen, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:57:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Direwolf88/pseuds/Direwolf88
Summary: The Earth is threatened by an unknown enemy and a mysterious Monk visits the Watchtower to deliver a centuries-old prophecy to the Justice League. What Bruce hears is enough to send chills down his spine. But Fate will not be denied. Not even by a Bat determined to protect his sons.





	1. A Father's Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in this forum. I absolutely adore the Bat family.

The Prophecy of Four Brothers

The Eldest will shine like a Jewel in the black.  
He faces all dangers and never looks back.  
Fair of face and weary of soul,   
the Acrobat soars from a land new and old.  
Most desperate for peace and a berth to call home,  
He is the Heart, a light brightly shown.

The Second was born to a life of great Sorrow,  
Beaten and downcast, but never quite broken.  
He will flourish and learn and be loved for a while,  
Until Death, that great Beast, claims him- with a laugh and a smile.  
From a perilous Pit, he will climb and know life,  
Only to resume a path of hardship and strife.  
Brought home to a House divided and Torn,  
He is the Warrior, redeemed and reborn.

The Third is a tale of loyalty and determination.  
He forges his way, makes the role his own through sheer will and dedication.  
Despite all of his strengths and great sacrifice,  
the Eldest does not choose him and Fate rolls the dice.  
A greater Detective than even the Father and King,  
This Independent son will rise and fall on a prayer and a Wing.  
He is focused and comprised of layers scattered and tiered.  
But the Detective, as he's known, should always be feared.

The Youngest is of a Demon and burns bright from the womb,  
He trains Night and Day and battles all the way to his tomb.  
He will find his brothers and calling later in Life,  
Where he rises from darkness and into the Light.  
Angry and fierce and full of lonely Fire,  
The Blood Son is blessed and cursed to a Fate most dire.  
His enemies are doomed if the Little One chooses to fight.  
He is the Assassin, a beloved Shadow in the Night.

Together, unstoppable and Fierce, these brothers,   
Closer than blood, though born of different sires and mothers.  
They must come together and ride on the Wind.  
They will defeat Gods and Monsters and force Evil to bend.  
The Father will worry and be right to Fear,  
For the cost of this War, may be too great to bear.  
When the day comes again that celestial bodies align,  
Terrible enemies will fall from the sky and this is our sign.  
Find the Brothers and send them we must to the World of Doom,  
Epic battles they shall fight and Win unto Death or our World ends soon.  
Despite this Dark Fate they must go or all shall Perish,  
And unto eternity, the Love of Four Brothers we will Cherish.

 

Bruce was shaking under the cowl. He had perfected the art of unruffled stoicism over his many years of Vigilantism on the bleak streets of Gotham and solidified it even more in his time as the Dark Knight on the League. But this was too much. How was any man, any FATHER, supposed to hear something so dreadful and so CLEARLY about his sons, and NOT feel like they were falling apart.

He could feel Clark boring twin holes in the side of his head from the seat next to him, but he refused to meet his gaze. Only the Kryptonian would know he and his family well enough, to read as deeply into the Prophecy as he had. 

This was impossible. This couldn't be happening. Not to HIS family. Haven't they been through enough? Sacrificed enough?

"Okayyy," Hal spoke up from across the table, staring at the Monk diplomat like he was 6 eggs shy of a dozen. "Well, that little 'song' was entertaining and all, but how in the hell is it supposed to help us in this crisis?"

"Hal's right." Superman finally tore his attention from Bruce and tried to divert the solemn attention away from the Monk's words. "Don't get me wrong, I love a good nursery rhyme as much as the next person," He smiled gently here to soften his let down, because he is a Boy Scout and nothing if not polite. "But we allowed you into the Hall because you claimed to have a definitive way to help us with the invaders, not-"

"Not hokum and hooey." Hal finished for him rudely, arms crossed in belligerence. Barry shook his head at him in censure. Despite the pilot being one of an army of powerful beings set to protect the cosmos, Hal had a low tolerance for anything not immediately obvious or understood.

Barry spoke up. "Take it easy, GL. Mr.....I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" He asked gesturing at their visitor.

The man, dressed in plain brown robes and a soft smile upon his face responded, "I did not. I am simply the Keeper."

"Right. Uhum, Mr....Keeper here is just trying to help."

This only seemed to anger Hal more. "Help?! By spouting nonsense?! In case any of you have forgotten, there is currently an extraterrestrial warship the size of Texas floating just above Earth's atmosphere. No diplomatic approach has been received and our biggest guns haven't been able to touch it." Hal gestured toward himself, Superman (who blushed) and Wonder Woman who seemed lost in thought.

Aquaman joined in. "The Jolly Green Giant has a point-"

"Thank you! wait wha-"

"This threat cannot go unheeded despite their apparent inactivity. We are gathered as a team to protect this planet and we currently have no method of doing so, despite this...Monk...wasting half an hour of our time already. Not even Cyborg has been able to read a signal from the ship-"

The arguing continued for a few minutes, with Batman remaining in an unusually quiet and morose state, even for him. The "Keeper" as he called himself made no move to defend his words and only waited to be addressed or questioned.

"The planets are aligned." This simple phrase was spoken with a quiet authority and came from the Amazonian seated regally at the Table. When Wonder Woman spoke, the others listened. The back and forth ceased almost immediately.

"What?" Clark looked confused.

Diana smile softly at him. "My people are currently preparing for a great feast back home. It is a Feast to celebrate the great celestial bodies being in alignment. It only happens once every five hundred years or so." 

Bruce wilted internally even further. She was right and he had caught that part of the so called 'prophecy' as well. 

She continued, "The ideal alignment will happen tomorrow evening and Cyborg, while unable to breach any signals from the ship, HAS detected rising power levels coming from within. This could prelude an attack. Tomorrow." 

"Oh." Barry was somber, not his usual peppy self. "and 'enemies will fall from the sky'."

"Exactly." The monk seemed pleased that they were finally starting to cotton on.

Wonder Woman turned to the brooding Bat and raised an eyebrow. "Batman, you have yet to speak on the matter. You are, arguably our greatest strategist. What say you of this Holy man and this 'solution' he presents." 

All eyes turned to Bruce. He wanted to ignore them and take a Zeta-beam straight to the manor. He wanted to go home and call his family home from patrols or individual missions. Gather them within the stout walls of his ancestral home and keep them all safe until this crisis blew over like any other sane father would. But he was Batman. He had started this crusade and led the others, his SONS to a similar fate. To his eternal shame and regret. He was resigned to the fact that he could not remain idle but he would not so easily offer his children.

"Admittedly, there are some relevant correlations. The tablet that the Keeper submitted upon arrival has been tested and is approximately half a millennium old. However, I'm not sure that following this trail is the most prudent course of-"

"Exactly!" Hal exclaimed, seemingly having regained his fire since Wonder Woman's input. "Besides, say HYPOTHETICALLY, that we believed you. HYPOTHETICALLY, how in the hell would these 'brothers' be able to help, when we the most powerful beings on the planet are unable to?" 

"Your arrogance does you no favor, Lantern," Wonder Woman commented harshly, "you know as well as I that true Power is not always so obvious a concept."

Bruce needed to get control of the conversation. Direct the flow away from this dreaded path. He swallowed past the lump in his throat but still could not find his voice. He tried to dig into that darkest part of himself where the Bat reigned free and strong, but the Father was simply frozen.

Aquaman picked up where Hal left off. "True, Amazon. Glow Stick has a fair point as well.-" "Come on, really?!" "-but all of that aside, there is a more pressing issue. How are supposed to find them? This is a planet with millions of families and sets of siblings? I am not a master of prophecy or poems, but I heard no indication of location, or nationality, or even species in the monk's lines. Where would we even begin?"

The Hall went silent again, all members of the League lost in concentration, or in Bruce's case, despair. This had turned south quickly. They had gone from complete disbelief to discussing the best course of execution. He needed to-

"I know who they are."

It was Clark. Bruce was undeniably...livid. Of all the times that he has been betrayed over the years, he never thought it would come from this quarter. From his BEST FRIEND. And in a way that put nearly everyone he loves in grave danger.

Clark turned to him and it was like they were all alone in the room, despite the whispers all around them from other league members.

"I know what you're thinking Br-Batman." Superman glanced toward their visitor, ever vigilant about the importance of secret identities. "But they are already in danger. Always. And it is no one's fault. Those are the lives THEY have chosen. They would WANT to know about this. It is THEIR choi-"

Bruce had heard enough. He lunged, digging into the deepest pocket of his utility belt for the bright green rock he never thought he'd willingly use on a non-affected Superman. The stone cast an eerie sickly glow on Superman's features. Bruce was aware of the rest of the League assuming battle ready positions. He was Batman after all. Distraught Father or not, he would know the location and capabilities of potential enemies at all times.Even if they were supposed to be his greatest allies. 

"How dare you?!' He growled in a voice that had terrified many a criminal in the back alleys of Gotham and even sent some of the nastiest evils on the planet into hiding. But Clark was unphased. Or at least, appeared to be. He remained quiet and his powers continued to drain while Bruce's tirade continued. "I trusted you! THEY trusted you! And you are so willing to throw them to the wolves."

"No! God Batman, no! You are my friend and I love those boys like they were my own but-"

"But they are not yours! They are mine and they..." he began to stutter off, suddenly leaping back in horror at his own actions and tucking the Kryptonite away. "I won't bring them into this. I refuse to let this happen. I can't..." He wilted and had to catch himself on a nearby chair.

"That's just it, B, it isn't up to you! They are grown adults-" a sharp glare from the Bat had him stumbling over his words"-MOST of them. They deserve to know and decide for themselves and it is our duty to help them. We have no other choice but to pursue the possibility that this prophecy may have some truth to it. We need to bring them up to the Watchtower." He seemed on the edge of sorrow himself, despite the determination in his voice and bearing.

The others were shocked. They had never seen the optimistic Boy Scout or Fearsome Bat in such states. What the hell was happening?

Barry broke the ensuing silence and spoke what everyone was thinking. "Superman, what is going on? Who are the brothers and how do you- and Batman- know them?" He glanced at Bruce in apprehension but the Bat wasn't glaring at him like he expected. He wasn't looking at any of them. He was just staring at the blue and green planet visible through the Watchtower's observation window. 

To everyone's surprise, it wasn't Clark who answered. It was Bruce.

He sighed, a harsh grating sound. He turned to face all of them and the thunderous expression on his face was one that even the Joker would have feared. The answer that came next was wholly unexpected and a jarring shock to almost all present.

"They are my sons."


	2. Goo and Zeta Beams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always highly appreciated! I have the outline for this story complete and will try to post daily and when I see kudos and comments, it is big time motivation. Now, back to the fun.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Jason's tone was incredulous as he wiped leather-gloved hands down the front of his shirt. The gelatinous goo that stuck to his hands as he pulled them away was an off-putting brown in color and had an odor that could rival Dick's disastrous attempt at cooking enchiladas.

"You ok there, Hood?" Tim's question was broken by stifled giggles. 

The last of the goons they'd been battling fell under a swift strike from Tim's bo staff and the teenager took a moment to lean on his preferred weapon while staring at the notorious and terrifying Red Hood, currently covered in excrement colored (and smelling) goo courtesy of the Penguin. 

"Cobblepot's really stepped up his game, huh?" Tim continued, unperturbed by the death glare being shot his way from a helmetless Red Hood. It had gotten tossed off when the goo had started causing sparks and other unpleasant reactions. He still had on his trusty domino, but it could only hide so much anger. And disgust.

"I swear to God, this job just gets fucking weirder and weirder."

They began sweeping the warehouse and unconscious goons for any surprise tech or relevant information. Tim continued to snort in laughter occasionally and Jason couldn't even begrudge him it. He and Tim had grown closer in recent months and Jason was not blind to the younger vigilante's tendencies to ignore his own health and well-being. Tim had shown progress recently, but there was still a ways to go and every moment of happiness was a win in Jason's mind. Even if it came at his expense.

The com link crackled to life. *Nightwing to Reds*

Tim answered, as Jason's hands were too sticky to activate his com.

"Red Robin here. I've got Hood with me. He's currently..indisposed," he reported mock seriously.

*Everything okay?*

"Everything's fine-" "Everything is NOT fine!" "mission complete on our end. Cobblepot's men didn't put up any kind of decent fight. They've all been incapacitated. And we even got a HEALTHY sized sample of Penguin's mystery substance to bring back to the cave for analysis." "I will fucking end you Replac-"

If Dick heard Jason's outbursts in the background, he chose to ignore them. Wisely. *Roger that Red Robin. Glad to hear it went well-* a beep could be heard from Dick's end of the line. There was a brief pause and Tim raised an eyebrow at Jason questioningly. Jason returned the look with a nonchalant shrug. He may be (mostly) welcomed back into the Batclan fold, but he was not fully attuned to all of their subtle nuances yet. *Return to the Cave.* Dick finished curtly and entirely un-Dick-like.

"Yeah, I don't think so 'Wing. Its been fun and all, but I was looking forward to a long hot shower and a nice cozy night in at Home Sweet Safe House, so thanks, but pass."

"-TT-" Robin cut in, lightly panting, probably running over Gotham's roof tops, dancing to whatever tune Dickiebird sang, as per his modus operandi. "I've seen your 'home' Todd, and it is nothing to yearn for."

"No names in the field!" Jason barked. Though the kid had a point. Since the Outlaws had just recently disbanded for a temporary hiatus less than a month ago, he hadn't had a chance to do more than set up temporary digs in an abandoned warehouse and it wasn't exactly cover of Home and Garden worthy. He had debated swallowing his pride and convincing Tim to let him snag the guest room in that ridiculously large Penthouse over in Wayne tower, but had not sunk so low. Yet.

*Enough.* Nightwing's tone over the com link was one they rarely heard the original Robin use. It was curt and commanding, with just a hint of apprehension. *Return to the Cave NOW. ALL of you. we've received a message from the Watchtower.*

Jason's heart sank, though he would never admit it to anyone. Tim seemed similarly affected and began questioning Nightwing immediately. "What happened? I've heard of no new developments on the Invasion crisis. Is Batman injured?" The two of them were already moving, grappling guns fired and combat boots flying across roof tops heading on a clear path to home. Or the closest approximation to a true home that any of them had.

Jason heard Damian grunt over the com that he was on the way, no more quips or ragging.

Dick was slow to answer and when he did it wasn't at all what Jason expected. *Negative, Red Robin. It was Batman that sent the message. We've been called to the Tower because... The League wants to see us.*

That caused Jason to pump the breaks and Tim followed suit. 

"Say again, 'Wing. The League want to see us? ALL of us?"

*That's what his message said. The four of us are to report to the Zeta tube immediately and beam up together.*

Damian cut back in, usual haughty tone restored, "What's the matter, Hood? Done something reprehensible lately?"

Jason genuinely thought about that while Tim rolled his eyes and they got moving again. "Not that I can think of. No more than my current usual."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The comms went silent again and exactly 14 minutes later saw all 4 male Robins, past and present standing near the Zeta tube located just outside the North entrance to the Bat cave. They all retained their vigilante gear and weaponry, Jason in a fresh suit and helmet. The message might have been written by their father (or fatherish figure to some of them) but it was sent by Batman and besides, only one other League member knew all of their identities.

"Grayson, why have we been summoned?"

"You know as much as I do, Baby Bat. But whatever it is, we're about to find out."

Dick grabbed Damian and pulled him close to his side in a one-armed hug. He looked at Tim, who nodded but remained silent. Jason, surprisingly did as well. To Dick's knowledge, the second Robin had never had the opportunity to visit the Justice League's stronghold before...stuff...happened. But his younger brother seemed entirely nonplussed. It was an act of course, but still, Dick was impressed. And worried. Because it was Jason and he would always worry about him. About all of his baby brothers.

Jason uncrossed his arms long enough to motion Dick and the rest into action. They stepped in the narrow tube one after another, deciding to go in order of birth. The blinding white light encompassed them each until Damian finally found himself on the other side of the beam and standing behind a wall of his brothers' broad backs. He pushed and shoved until finally Drake moved enough for Damian to push through and see what had his brothers so entranced. It was the Justice League. All six of the primary members. Despite his privileged warrior upbringing, Damian had to admit, it was an imposing sight.

He felt Todd tense up on the other side of him and made an impulsive decision, which he would later deny ever happened (on pain of death) and grabbed the elder man's hand, squeezing tightly in solidarity. He knew that due to his checkered past, that Todd would be uncomfortable in the face of such unyielding righteousness. Frankly, Damian was a bit out of sorts as well.

The League members were looking at them with varying expressions. Green Lantern looked unimpressed while Aquaman's gaze was clearly assessing. Superman and Wonder Woman both looked sad 'what in the Demon's name was that about?!' and Batman, the only one of the League whose opinion truly mattered to Damian, seemed defensive. To say the least. He had moved close to his sons and stood in profile, keeping a wary eye on his fellow League members. Only the Flash's greeting was somewhat welcoming, with a friendly wave from the Speedster.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four new comers cautiously and in tandem, migrated from the Zeta Tube area and toward the waiting Giants, Batman a constant presence between them and the others. Tim noted his former mentor's strange behavior and moved on to notice (because Tim always notices) a man dressed in robes seated at the table rise to join the League in meeting them. The man looked at Tim and his brothers with what Tim could only equate to awe.

The man approached them before any League members could. But before the hand he was reaching out could brush Tim's cape, Bruce snagged his wrist. The man, who was apparently a monk or religious disciple of some kind judging by his attire, barely noticed Batman's interference. He continued to gaze at Tim and the others, an inignorable misty sheen ghosting his eyes.

"I can't believe it," he began, "After five hundred years, that I am the one blessed to meet you, all of you...I can't believe it." He repeated.

Dick cleared his throat awkwardly. "Excuse me, sir. But do we know you?"

"No my dear boy," the man replied amused "but I know you. At least I feel as though I do. If what your fath-ahem the Batman- believes is true and you are indeed the Four Brothers referenced in the Prophecy my Order has been studying and guarding these long centuries, then I feel as though I know all of you quite well. In fact I have so many questions! Which of you is the Warrior and how exactly did Death-" he grew more excited as he spoke and would have continued if Jason hadn't interrupted.

"What the hell are you talking about, old man?" 

"Hood!" Dick's remonstration only garnered a shrug from the Red Hood.

The Monk's explanation offered no true clarification on the matter (though Tim's high-powered brain was already clicking its gears into overdrive) so all 4 Robins, even Jason, did what they were trained to do and looked to Batman. For explanation. For instruction.

"Spooky," Flash muttered.

"B, what the hell is going on?" Nightwing asked, echoing his brothers' queries toward himself from earlier.

It was Green Lantern who answered. "Didn't you know?" He chuckled sarcastically before continuing. "You Four are going to save the world. You get your own power ballad about it and everything."

Only years of training by the Bat kept all four of them from showing any real reaction to those words. Instead, they traded glances with each other, Robin trying to catch Batman's eye as well but failing.

In the end, it was Tim who was able to eloquently phrase what they were all thinking. "Huh?"


	3. Prophetic Debate

"...and unto eternity, the Love of Four Brothers we will cherish." The Monk ended his second recitation of the Prophecy. Tension was thick around the table. Dick, Tim, and Damian sat together with Jason standing behind them. Batman sat near them with the rest of the League on the opposite side.

  
Since his brothers seemed either lost in thought or shocked into temporary silence, Dick decided to speak up first. "Is this some kind of sick joke? Because it isn't funny. Not in the least." He directed his question to Bruce, but Wonder Woman answered.

  
"No, Nightwing. This holy man approached us with sincerest intent. I'm afraid this situation is very serious."

  
"This is bullshit," Jason snarled lowly. Ah, there was his vocal brother. "Some kook comes to you with this jibberish, and by the way the rhymes are terrible- seriously Seuss could have done a way better job- and you decide that we should listen to him?"

  
Green Lantern shrugged in what Dick could only take as an agreement with Jason's opinion.

  
Tim, after customary consideration, turned to Jason. "You have to admit Hood. Some of the correlations are too... _accurate_ to ignore."

  
"Coincidence," Jason snorted but didn't sound like he was convincing anyone, even himself.

  
"No. Coincidence would have been the first verse sounding like it _could_ have been about Nightwing. But all 4 verses matching with our lives in synchronized order? That's by design." Tim argued. "The Eldest is an Acrobat who soars, The Second climbs from a perilous Pit to know life, the Elder does not choose the Third-" Tim's voice cracks here, a barely discernible hitch, and Dick wants to leap up and grab him and tell him again, over and over, that he didn't _not_ choose him, that that's not what happened but Tim cleared his throat and continued before Dick could move, "the youngest is of a Demon, etcetra.The descriptions in this prophecy are _not_ coincidence."

  
"So he's a spy," Dick pointed at the Monk, deciding to play Devil's advocate against Tim, in truth just wanting his younger brother to look at him. He doesn't. "He is in cahoots-

  
"Cahoots, Goldie, really?" Jason deadpanned.

  
"-with the League of Assassins, the Joker, whoever. He's done his homework and is plotting something. We're just the instrument he's trying to use."

  
The Monk sputtered, finally seeming ruffled. But Tim spoke before he could even begin to form a coherent defense. "This alien threat is very real, Wing. You know that. Besides, I already thought about that. But while we've debated, I've been reading the most up to date files on this case from the Watchtower system and Batman had the tablet that the text was originally inscribed on tested. The results are conclusive. Its a genuine artifact."

  
"Those  files are heavily encrypted. You should not have been able to access them without proper clearance!" Wonder Woman scolded, clearly miffed. Tim just shrugged.

  
"Tests can be wrong. Results faked." Jason argued, but Dick could tell he was almost out of steam.

  
"These weren't," Tim ended with an air of finality and the rest of the Robins finally admitted to themselves, if not aloud. They were a part of this. This resolution into belief didn't comfort Dick. At all.

  
"So what do we do now?" Damian finally spoke up. Dick was beginning to worry about him, his silence, but it appeared that his littlest brother was simply biding his time.

  
"That is the question of the hour." Superman acknowledged.

  
After a few seconds of contemplative silence, Batman, ever the detective, addressed the Monk. "Is there anything else you're not telling us?"

  
"Such as?" the Monk seemed genuinely confused.

  
"You said your 'order' has been studying this prophecy for a long time. Do you have any interpretations to share with us? Any other lines you may have missed in the telling? I noticed on the original tablet that there are several spaces where it appears the prophet scribbled something into the sides, but they have since been marked out. And who _was_ the prophet?"

  
The Monk became excited. It made sense to Dick. This particular subject was his life's work. This subject of course being Dick and his brothers' lives. Ugh.

  
"Well, as to the prophet himself, he was a nobody. A Benedictine Monk out for a walk one day, when suddenly he fell to the ground in a dead feint. When he awoke, he demanded a tablet and chisel. He claimed wanted his words to last. When he completed his work, he fled the monastery and began our Order, the Order of Brothers-"

  
"Oh yay, it has a name." Jason interrupted.

The Monk continued unperturbed."-We have been safe-guarding the prophecy ever since. The removed lines you referenced were written later by the same Prophet. They were short and seemingly irrelevant, so they were removed."

  
Batman didn't like that at all. "Anything could be relevant. What did they say?"

  
The Monk shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, but that knowledge has been mostly lost over the years. All I know is that they reference a Grandfather figure who should hold the homestead along with 'beloved beasts of the Assassin'. Truly, it didn't make any sense and did not seem to influence the main Prophecy at all, so we assumed it was unimportant..."

  
"You'd be wrong." Tim broke in fiercely, inferring like the rest of them that it had to be talking about Alfred. And Damian's pets, of all things.

  
"Anything else?"

  
"There was one small line about a Silent Sister, who should guard the Kingdom in their absence, but again-"

  
"And again you'd be wrong." Jason corrected him  this time. "The two people you and your 'Order' deemed insignificant are essential. To us." His brothers nodded in agreement.

  
"Ahem, ,yes well, certainly, we may not have been perfect in our deductions."

  
"Certainly." Dick said, his own Bat-glare firmly in place.

  
"Right, well to answer your other questions Batman, yes of course we have tried to interpret the verses. I myself, specialize in the Second Son. The Warrior's verse always called strongest to me."

  
"Is that so?" Jason questioned, leaning both hands on the table and sneering at the Monk.

  
"Well, y-yes. H-he has such a beautifully doomed prose, don't you think?" he babbled, intimidated.

  
Jason seemed frozen for the briefest of moments, a dark cloud settling over his features. Tim gently nudged him, concerned for his older brother. That contact spurred Jason out of his reverie and Jason squeezed the younger man's shoulder in gratitude. The entire exchange lasted a matter of seconds, but Dick noticed it and it brought a measure of hope.

"Sure, Friar Tuck, whatever you fucking say. I'm out of here." With that, Jason pushed off the table and stormed off back in the direction of the Zeta tubes, holster clicking audibly in his haste. The rest of the Bat clan stood to follow suit.

  
"Was it something I said?" the Monk asked. In his defense, he did seem to genuinely regret that he'd somehow upset one of his idols. Dick thought it doubly ironic that it happened to be the monk's "favorite" brother.

  
Damian answered him and true to form, did not hold back. "Death is never beautiful. It is bleak and lonely. It is not prose or poetry. It is agony and despair. And Hoo- the Second Son's in particular was not a moment to be idolized or fawned over. The only emotions that tale should ever garner are sorrow and fury." He finished in a low voice. The Monk looked ill, but Damian didn't seem to care that he had affected the man so. To be truthful, Dick didn't much care either. Intentional or not, the Monk's carelessness had hurt Jason. Poured salt into a wound that never really healed.

  
They proceeded to the  tubes and began to Zeta back to Gotham, one by one, until only Bruce remained. Before he could join his sons, Batman was stopped by a hand to the arm. Clark quickly snatched the offending appendage back like it had been burned. They were alone in the transport room, Clark having warned the rest of the League to remain behind in  the War Room with the Monk.

  
"Bruce, I know this is terrible. Trust me, old friend, I do. But we need to formulate a plan. Where are you all going?"

  
Bruce glared at him, and for a brief moment, Clark thought he might go for the Kryptonite again, but he remained perfectly still, in that eerie way he had. Clark didn't think the billionaire would answer but was surprised a moment later.

  
"The Prophecy says that whatever is meant to happen, will not occur until tomorrow. Until then..." Bruce's voice slurs a bit and it scares Clark. Despite his own god-like strength and other amazing capabilities, he accepted that the Dark Knight was truly the stronger one. Where it counted. Superhuman in his fortitude. The man he saw before him however looked ready to crumble. Hanging on by a thread. And it broke Clark's heart. 

  
"I'm taking my sons home, Clark. When we- they- are needed, we will come."

  
"You always do, Bruce." Clark tried to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

  
"Yes," he growled. "We do."

  
~~~~~~~~

  
When Bruce arrived at the manor, the Cave was empty but there were uniforms scattered throughout the locker area. Possible world-ending crisis or not, Alfred's rules stand firm. No uniforms outside of the Cave.

  
He took the lift to the main floor and followed the sound of clinking silverware and china to the dining room. All of his children, minus Cassandra who was currently on a mission in Beijing, were sitting around the table. In complete silence. Alfred hovered over them and they responded to his questions and comments of "More tea, Master Jason?" and "You need to eat more than that please, Master Timothy" with vague grunts and shrugs. It had been a while since Bruce had seen his children so...quiet. There were no insults being thrown. No barbed underhanded comments. Just silence. That was quite enough of that.

  
"Alright, lads, finish your Dinner, and then up we go."

  
"Father, we are not in the mood." Damian was pushing his potatoes around on his plate. Bruce hadn't seen him take an actual bite yet.

  
"You don't even know what I was going to suggest Damian."

  
"Lemme guess. Training." Jason chimed in, perking up a bit at any opportunity to rankle Bruce.

  
The patriarch sighed. "No. No training. I was thinking... a movie."

  
"A movie?" Tim asked incredulously.

  
"Sure, why not?"

  
"Um, because the world may be attacked tomorrow and there's a good possibility that we are the best or only chance at saving it," Tim explained as if here were speaking to a simpleton.

  
"Also, some really creepy dude wrote depressing ass explanations about our lives a jillion years ago. That's kind of a bummer" Jason added spinning his spoon with expert showmanship worthy of a sharp dagger instead of cutlery.

  
Dick had had enough. It was his job, his privilege as older brother to keep spirits high, even in such dire situations as this. After all, he was supposed to be the Heart, right? He decided to act. "That sounds like a great idea, Bruce. I vote Goonies."

  
"Ugh, Jesus, Dickface, do you have to be so damn predictable? If we're going to do this ridiculous dance, I say we watch something worth watching. Expendables? The first one of course, not the crap sequels." Jason added his two cents. It was apparently the spur everyone needed. They began gathering their dishes to dump in the sink and made their way toward the den.

  
"TT. I would prefer a film with substance. A  documentary perhaps?"

  
"What the hell is wrong with you, Demon Brat?"

  
"Todd, your ape-like sensibilities are frankly, disturbing."

  
Jason shot an offensive finger toward the youngest, but was quickly caught and reprimanded by Alfred, earning snickers from all.

  
In the end, Bruce just put the nearest Blu-Ray disc into the player. It was Iron Man. And the boys were more than happy to crack jokes about billionaire geniuses trying to play hero.

  
They began the film sitting apart from each other, still too raw from what had transpired at the Tower. But halfway through the film, Damian stood up stealthily and joined Dick and Bruce on the sofa, squeezing in between them ("not cuddling, Grayson. Maneuvering!"). Dick wrapped him in a fierce hug anyway, refusing to let go. Jason shrugged, deciding to embrace the madness, and got up from his chair and plopped unceremoniously at Dick's feet, not protesting when Damian absently began to stroke tiny fingers through his shabby hair, lingering just a little on the white streak at the front. Tim held out longer but finally succumbed to Jason poking him repeatedly in the leg, and got up to settle on the floor in front of Bruce. Stiffly at first, but slowly relaxing into the fold. They watched the remainder of the film, and when the credits began to roll, all of them, were still awake. They communicated silently and decided as a whole, that they were comfortable as they were. No need to retire to separate, cold bedrooms.

  
That was how Alfred found them an hour later. All of them snoring softly. Each of them connected physically in some way, with Bruce's wide arms attempting to encircle them all. The butler smiled softly and wished all moments could be like this. He snapped a quick picture with his mobile and was about to begin covering his family with blankets, when a terrible sound pierced the air. A siren. The Cave's emergency siren linked to the League, specifically.

  
When Alfred recovered from the brief shock of the wailing siren sound, he turned to find all of them wide awake and staring at each other, grim determination set in their expressions. Apparently, the  wee hours of the morning were close enough to 'celestial alignment' for the Alien invaders. Tomorrow was now. The Invasion had begun and the brothers had work to do.  
 


	4. A Call to Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments HIGHLY appreciated. :)

"Say again, Oracle. I think I misheard" Nightwing wanted clarification. What she had just told them...it couldn't be true.

"I repeat- millions of casualties."

"Fuck!" That was Jason. Everyone else on comms was apparently too stunned to respond.

Nightwing was definitely in that category. _How...What..._ Before he could even begin to process, Barbra's voice broke through again.

"Nightwing, Hood, Red Robin- Batman wants you back at the Cave. Immediately. He and Robin are already en route. Batwoman will maintain patrol in Gotham."

Affirmatives were muttered all around and Dick began swinging home. _How in the hell had this happened_? As soon as the siren had sounded, they had geared up and hit the streets, prepared for a direct attack, armies of aliens, anything really. Or so they'd thought. But these invaders were smart. Dick entered the cave and noticed he was the last to arrive. His brothers, Alfred, and Bruce (cowl lowered) were gathered around the large screen. Bruce had an arm around Damian who looked like he was trying so hard to be brave and strong, but was clearly shaking. Jason looked livid and Tim just looked...stunned. Dick joined his brothers, settling a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. Jason glanced at him and the rage on his face- Dick sucked in a gasp. He thought he saw a flicker of green in the depths of Jason's normally blue eyes but it was gone in a blink. Both brothers turned their attention back to the television.

Dick heard a distressed news anchor reporting the event, obviously trying to remain professional, but his was voice choked with sobs.

_"...unbelievable. For those of you just joining us, it is with a heavy heart that I report what transpired this morning. The Alien craft sent a probe and...it...it was so fast. It...fired before the Justice League could intercept. The probe cut a swath of devastation down central Florida. From Orlando all the way down to Miami...oh God-"_ The young anchor was pale. He dropped his head in his hands. He seemed to lose focus and started mumbling to himself, forgetting that he was even on television. Dick couldn't blame him. " _My sister. My niece and nephew. They were on a Disney trip. She spent years saving up for that and I-I can't get ahold of her-please-"_

Finally, the poor man was escorted off the sound stage and replaced by a nervous young woman who resumed where he left off. "We have casualty reports rolling in steadily. Currently, losses are estimated in the millions. The Justice League has yet to release a statement, but Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, and Martian Manhunter have stationed themselves close to the alien ship and don't appear to be giving up their vigil any time soon. We can only hope that it will be eno-" Bruce clicked the television off.

"It won't be." He declared. All of his sons turned to face him. "It wont be enough. The League may be able to beat them back eventually, but it would take too long. The toll in the meantime would be...catastrophic."

"What do we do?" Dick asked.

"It all comes back to that prophecy. Everything in it so far has been accurate. Terrifyingly so. Our best hope is to utilize it." Tim muttered.

"But how, Drake? The next lines read something to the affect of sending us to a 'World of Doom'. But the threat is here. On this planet. Why would we leave it?" Damian's tone was lacking the usual fire that it normally had when speaking to Tim. Even he understood the gravity of the situation.

"I don't know, D, that's what I'm trying to figure out."

Batman raised a fist for silence and pressed two fingers to the bud in his ear, obviously receiving a communication of some kind. Most likely from the League, since almost everyone else was here.

"We may be getting some answers. The aliens have finally made contact. They have agreed to send a delegation to the Watchtower to meet with the League. The United Nations isn't happy about this turn, but they're willing to trust us. For now."

Jason made a show of taking his gun out of its holster, switching out the rubber bullet rounds with the real bullets he kept on himself at all times (just in case). He twirled it and re-holstered it before speaking.

"So lets go talk to these assholes. I got _lots_ to say."

"Little Wing, I know you're upset. We all are but... this needs to be handled delicately. We need information. Weapons to use against them." Dick tried to soothe him but Jason was not a man easily soothed. Never had been.

"Upset?! Dick, we are way past that stage and heading straight into murderous rampage territory." Dick watched Jason force himself to take a long deep breath before continuing. "But I  get it. I'll keep my mouth shut. For now. But those little green fuckers make one wrong move, and they taste lead. Got it?"

Dick just nodded. Couldn't argue with that.

"They're not green exactly," Tim muttered. "More like a soft gray..."

"Not the point, Timbo!"

"I know, I'm sorry. I rationalize at inconvenient time. Its a coping mechanism."

"We know!" the other three chorused.

"Let's move. We need to get to the Watchtower ASAP." Bruce ordered.

They all turned to follow but stopped at the sound of a motorcycle squealing into the Cave at high speed. The bike jumped the ramp lip and drove right up to them. When the driver removed the helmet to reveal Cassandra, all of the boys smiled. Even Damian.

"You're leaving." Her words were short. To the point.

Tim nodded in answer and went to give her a brief explanation but Cassandra shook her head at him.

"Spoke to Alfred. I know." Their sister had never been easy to read. Like at all. But even Dick could easily read the sadness in the downward tilt of her lips. The worry in her scrunched eyebrows.

"It'll be okay. We'll be fine." Dick said. _God, why did he say that. He hated when people offered empty promises and he just delivered a whopper_.

But Cassandra took the words to heart. "You better. Now go. Be safe. Gotham safe with me."

She hugged each of them and went to stand by Titus, Alfred the Cat, and Batcow. If Dick didn't know any better, he'd say they seemed just as somber as the rest of them. As if they knew what was happening. Then again, being Damian's pets, there was no telling what they were capable of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were gathered around the Zeta tube ready to begin transport, when Alfred walked briskly out to join them. They had already said their goodbyes in the cave so Dick wasn't sure what he wanted.

"May 26th." Said the butler.

"Is that someone's birthday or deathday that I'm not remembering right or something, Alfie?" Jason questioned, truly at a loss.

"No, my dear boy. Its the next portrait sitting. And you all _must_ be there."

"Um...pardon?" Jason floundered.

"Master Bruce and myself do adore the current portrait but as it is missing two key members, we decided to have an updated one done. The artist has already been booked for May 26th."

Dick noticed that Alfred was shaking. It was slight but Jason must have noticed it too. He reached a hand out and steadied the older man.

"That's...nice, Alf, but its not necessary. I'm not really the portrait type and-"

"I _said_ that the artist has already been booked. And you _will_ be there, Master Jason. All of you will be." It was a declaration.

Jason just nodded. What else could he do?

"You're right, Alfred. We'll be there. And it'll be a disaster just like it was last time. And you and Cassandra will have to coral the rest of us and it'll be...perfect. Okay?" Tim rallied.

Alfred smiled warmly at him. "And for that Master Timothy, you get extra cookies upon your return."

"Pennyworth, that is unacceptable! If anyone deserves extra cookies, it would be me, not Drake." Damian protested. Tim rolled his eyes.

"Lets bo boys." Batman brought their attention back to the matter at hand and the mood turned grave again instantly. They waved final good byes to Alfred and Cassandra in the distance and took the portal up to the Watchtower for the second time in as many days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, the mystery of the next step of the prophecy answered itself.

The alien delegation, Zandorians as they called themselves, were an exotic looking race of beings. They were enormously tall, well over 7 feet, with long slender necks and strange furry mohawks above otherwise smooth dome shaped heads. They explained that they were a "fair and just" species. They had conquered hundreds of worlds. And the real kicker in Tim's opinion was that it wasn't even to harvest natural resources or even something truly heinous thing like to collect slave labor. It was simply a never ending quest to prove their superiority. They were a species millions of years evolved and they had essentially grown bored, thus disembarking on this quest millennia ago. At each planet, they offered the local population a chance at salvation. The planet was allowed to choose 4 champions. The champions would be sent their home world of Zandor to face 3 challenges. If the champions emerged victorious, the planet and its inhabitants would be spared.

Tim didn't put a lot of Faith into words and neither did Batman, who asked them harshly how they were expected to take their word for it. The Zandorians smiled (or what Tim guessed was a smile) at Batman and assured the 'simple little Terran' that they would never go back on their word. They assured the League that the first "small" attack on Earth was simply a show of force and no further harm would come to the planet or its inhabitants while the challenges took place. Tim thought that Jason was going to lose it when they described the attack as small but Bruce laid a hand on his arm and it was apparently enough to keep the Red Hood from drawing metal.

Aquaman had asked them to contact one of the former champions so that they could get proof of their sincerity. The Zandorians had responded that that would be impossible. Because there were no champions alive. The challenges had never been beat. No world saved in this manner. And that was a depressing statistic if ever they heard one.

What really gave Tim hope though was when asked how the champions were supposed to travel to a system millions of light years away, the universal translator that the Tower had rigged up was only able to translate their answer as a "ride on the Wind". Tim assumed it was a hyper-teleportation device of some kind but still. That was an exact line from the Prophecy. Even though it might mean trouble for him or god forbid one of his brothers, this was further proof that their may be some credence to this prophecy. At the very least, the cease fire would be time for the Justice League to craft a response plan.

It was settled. The Robins (as the League had taken to calling them) had stepped forth as volunteers and if the Zandorians were at all surprised by the quick turn around to their demands, they didn't show it. They did however seem surprised that none of the meta heroes had stepped forward.

"Are you sure _these_ are your champions? Based on what we've studied of your race, there are far more...amenable options."

_They sound like hotel concierges_. Tim thought.

For one tense moment, it seemed like Bruce might backtrack. That he might volunteer himself and try to convince other Leaguers to join him in their stead. But he didn't.

And now the Robins found themselves in a large high tech locker room on the Watchtower's main floor. The Zandorians had given them one hour to prepare. Bruce had escorted them to the locker room and then (after a couple of awkward sighs) left to join the League and leave the boys to their own devices. Tim was grateful for it.

Dick walked over to the control panel in the corner of the room and spent a few minutes fiddling with his phone, connecting it to the speaker system. Avicii's Hey Brother began playing.

Jason snorted. " _Again_ with the predictability, Goldie?"

"I like this song." Tim defended his eldest brother.

"Thank you, Tim. This is a beautiful song and deserves to be appreciated." Dick was twirling his Escrima sticks and running through complex battle positions. It was part of a ritual he completed before every patrol and mission. Jason was taking apart and re-assembling his guns and checking each part for peak performance. He had also spent a few minutes polishing a pair of gleaming blades. Tim wasn't sure exactly, but there was something about those blades that gave him the willies. He noticed that Damian gave them a wide berth as well. As for the current Robin, he was sitting in a classic meditation pose but was unable to achieve any real true relaxation because Jason kept 'accidentally' bumping into him.

Damian sneered. "I'm sure Todd would rather us play music more suited to him. Perhaps Smooth Criminal or Jailhouse Rock?"

"See, Dami, I know you're trying to throw shade, but you just named two of the greatest musicians and songs of all time, so hell yeah I'm all for that."

"TT-of course you are, Todd. And don't call me that."

"What? Dami? You don't like Demon Brat either. Fine, I'll just call you Little D or Baby Bat or one of the other ridiculous nicknames that DiscoWing over here likes to toss around." Jason jerked a thumb in Dick's direction as he spoke.

"Hey now-" Dick protested.

Damian growled. "Don't. You. Dare."

Jason just chuckled.

"Alright guys, let's focus and finish getting ready. You know what B says. 'A warrior prepared-"

"'Is a warrior bound for victory.'" They all chorused together. There was much eye-rolling all round, but they did settle into a comfortable silence and rhythm.

P.O.D.'s Youth of the Nation came on next and no one protested.The Robin's became the well-oiled machine they were trained to be. Jason tossed Tim his Bo staff from across the room before simultaneously catching the updated helmet Tim tossed at him. Dick helped Damian adjust his domino mask and so they continued until finally, close to the hour mark, all 4 boys were geared up and ready to go.

Bruce came to collect them and they followed their mentor and Father to the waiting Zandorians in the hangar bay. The primary League members were gathered around, keeping wary guard over the hostile alien species. But some took a few brief moments to relay words of encouragement, advice, or in Flash's case, a simple "good luck".

But Tim barely heard any of it. He only had eyes and ears for his family. When it was Bruce's turn to say farewell, he hesitated briefly before giving into the urge to hug each of his sons. None of them resisted. Not even stubborn Jason or proud Damian. They both leaned into their hugs and Tim heard Bruce whispering private encouragements to them. Whatever he said to Jason transformed the young Warrior's expression from somewhat sorrowful to solemn determination.

Tim's instructions from Bruce were straight-forward and heart felt.

"Your greatest weapon is your mind, Red Robin. I know I haven't been there for you like you needed or deserved but you should know- I am proud of you and who you've become. So unbelievably proud. Let logic guide you, but don't be afraid to go with your gut." These words rocked Tim. So long he'd waited to hear something like this from Bruce. So long he'd been denied. Until now.

"B, I swear if you tell me to 'follow my heart' I'm going to demand a scan to prove you're not an imposter of some kind." Tim was just trying to lighten the mood. Bring Bruce out of the darkness. Its what he'd been doing since he first became Robin after all.

But Bruce was not to be swayed. He hugged him again before moving on.

When it was his turn, Dick remained cooler than Tim thought he would. He simply grasped Bruce's forearm in a warrior's grasp before pulling him in for a brief hug.

"I'll take care of them, B. I swear it."

"Take care of yourself too, old chum." Dick looked taken aback for a moment. He was so used to taking care of other people, he probably didn't get told that too often. Tim could have sworn he saw moisture gather at the corner of Nightwing's black domino mask, but it was gone before he could confirm its existence.

Batman stepped back and was in the awe at the sight of his sons. Standing before him, prepared to go to war to save the planet. And he wouldn't be there to watch their backs. To protect them. They were on their own. No...they weren't alone. They had each other. They were ready. Hell, they were the best men Bruce knew. They could do this and come back hale and whole. They had to. Bruce would accept no other outcome.

"Remember," Bruce said, "May 26th."

All four nodded. A solemn vow.

"Its time." The primary Zandorian ordered. He and the rest of the delegation boarded the craft and without further ado, the Robins turned and in a cohesive motion, walked together up the ramp with Jason and Dick on the outer edges, subconsciously sheltering the younger two in the middle.

The ramp closed and the League walked out of the hangar bay so that it could decompress. Bruce watched from a view port as the small ship traveled away from both the Tower and the larger Alien craft, then it blinked out of visual range, taking his sons with it.

He felt Clark at his shoulder and thought maybe the Kryptonian wanted to say something. Offer some words of comfort or solace. But Bruce didn't want to hear it. He turned away and headed back to Gotham. Any criminals that were fool enough to cause trouble tonight or any night in the coming weeks would live to regret it. 


End file.
